


Lambent

by softsocks (orphan_account)



Series: Words Rule Our Hearts [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dan's human, Guardian Angel, M/M, Phil's not, hes an angel, still not sure why, supernatural!AU, the meet in a graveyard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4578243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/softsocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'(of light or fire) glowing, gleaming, or flickering win a soft radiance'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lambent

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: I AM NOT RELIGIOUS, THERE IS NO OFFENCE INTENDED, BUT I AM SORRY IF YOU ARE OFFENDED ANYWAY. And I appear to have a thing for them shaking hands. Whatever.

 Dan never thought that he'd ever fall in love.

In all the nineteen years he's spent alive, on this planet called Earth, he's never kissed or been kissed - not properly - and he's never had a proper relationship.

He's never worn someone else's sweater, never breathed in the pleasant scent of a lover, weaved in the fabric like strands of wool. Never held hands that turned warm and sweaty from nerves, never danced to cheesy love songs on kitchen tiles in mismatched socks. Never cuddled whilst watching a movie, never felt the warm hold of another person's arms wrapped tightly in an intimate embrace.

He's got love rushing through his veins, bleeding from his heart where blood should pulse, enough affection in his soul to envelop the entire Milky Way.

And no one to share it with.

 

* * *

 

Dan's not a very religious person.

He goes to church for important holidays such as Easter and Christmas , but he's not a weekly worshipper. He uses likely blasphemous phrases more than he rightfully should, but he's never linked a living, breathing person to a higher entity before.

Of course, that was before he catches sight of an ink-haired figure whose skin is place, ghostly white, but strongly luminescent - Dan's certain the aura he thinks he sees is just a by-product of the broken sleep that equates to roughly three hours he got the night before. It might also be because he's standing in the middle of a misty, fog-swamped graveyard with a chill seeping into his cotton jumper.

The headstone he runs his hand over is frozen to the touch, the replacement flowers he'd just put down too bright and colourful in comparison with the grey stone and the calligraphy embedded into the grainy surface. He can practically feel the souls of those who rest under the top layers of the earth surrounding him, spreading shivers like taps of delicate fingers down his spine. And yet, the unknown figure who seems to be shrouded in mystery like a villains cloak, emits more fascination and intrigue - and indeed attracts more of Dan's attention - than the spirits of those who've long since left this earthly plane.

Dan considers calling out - most likely in a hushed whisper so as not to shatter the somewhat eerie atmosphere - but he doesn't need to, because the stranger turns, as though he heard Dan's thoughts, or his slightly laboured breathing. The distance between them is shorter than Dan thought - thought it's hard to see through the heavy fog - a fact indicated by the brightness of the strangers' eyes, eyes that are boring into Dan so intensely, Dan's certain his soul is being examined.

They're a startling blue, the eyes, clear like a rock-pool and pristine like crystal glass. The gaze is intense, curious but not not hardened. Dan feels a little like part of an exhibition - although that's probably how the other guy also feels.

"Uh, hi." He calls, and it comes out stuttered and weak, as though even he's not sure what he's saying, what he's doing.

The stranger nods slightly, tilts his head so he looks deep in thought, or perhaps consideration, then begins to walk towards Dan.

"Hello," he says when he's closer, and his voice is low and smooth, pleasantly deep, the word crisp and articulate in the same way posh ladies and gentleman speak.

"It's surprising to see anybody else here, especially now." Dan says, hinting with an upward glance at the sky, currently midnight blue, the lunar glow soft and inviting.

"I find that it is more quiet and peaceful at this hour."

"I didn't realise graveyards were usually loud. Doesn't seem like much of a 'party central' hot spot to me, but then again, I don't exactly frequent social gatherings often, so what would I know, right?"

The stranger laughs, and the sound is twinkling piano notes, and wind chimes and silver triangles.

"I must admit that you do provide a convincing point." He holds his hand out, and the gesture seems strangely old-fashioned, a mannerism from a by-gone age - but then Dan remembers they're standing in a graveyard, in the middle of the night, and there are much stranger things he could be focused on in comparison to a handshake.

Dan shakes the stranger's hand.

"What is your name?" The stranger asks, and Dan finds it peculiar for a second but he moves on.

"Dan," he says, and the smile he receives is bright, genuine, but there's a calculating look filtered between turquoise hues.

"Philip." The stranger returns, and it rolls off his tongue with grace, like tumbling marbles.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Months that feel like years later - when Dan's running light fingers across soft feathers that feel like pillows from 5-star hotels and glow with an ethereal lambent glow; his naked chest pressed against Phil's, the hand not running through Phil's angelic wings spread against Phil's, fingers tangled - Dan wonders how he ever worried about never finding someone to love.

Even if the person he fell in love with isn't technically a person, isn't even technically a human - that doesn't mean it's any less special. He fell in love with a fallen angel, and in turn an angel fell in love too - in love with him and, consequently, from Heaven.

But Dan believes Phil when he says it's worth it, says he's worth is. Because he has to.

He can't lose his celestial guardian.


End file.
